Buttons
by sweetsnow73
Summary: Some things are problems you don't want to talk about but have to and you have no idea how to fix, some problems are easy to fix when you apply enough kisses.


So this for many seems like a fanfiction that is going against 'canon'. I have read the directly translated quote that is used about Berwald's sexuality and I feel there is some room for interpretation beyond that he's simply 'gay'. But if you do think that he is only gay and not really some gray area of sexuality then please go back from where you came from, I really don't want to get hate messages about this because of a simple difference in opinion.

Now the idea you should get from this, if I've written half way decently is that Ukraine has a large chest and sometimes this can lead to problems (popped buttons and back pain) but when you love someone you help them rather then leaving the problem there to get worse. But this is delicate manner.

Hopefully I've walked the line well enough, as a fellow larger breasted woman I wouldn't want to disrespect the sweetness of Ukraine and make her nothing more then a chest.

Also Berwald is a awkward turtle.

* * *

><p>There where some things that he hadn't the heart to talk to her about yet.<p>

No it wasn't about the pysanky that have found their way on to his shelves next to his Dalahäst horses. He rather liked that, as they were both lovely pieces of crafts and her eggs were intricate and the only real problem was the dusting. Or the way she frowned whenever he picked up a book, she didn't approve much of his literature but she was trying to work on that, after all she loved Amnesia, a game with just as much violence and gore as his stories.

No...it was really about the subject he had been trying to avoid, not wanting to stick his nose into...the rather sensitive area. She was a grown woman, and he trusted her to know what was best about her own body but...

The day had started out innocently enough, she came over with a bright smile and shy hug and they had spent a few hours watching a television show together, she chatted with him gently to get him to work on his small talk and he prodded back to get her to speak her truthful opinion on the subjects brought up, the two things they horrible about. It was during a commercial break that she had left to use the bathroom, on her way back she had thoughtfully brought him a glass of water, which had been exactly what he had thought of getting up to get himself. She was smiling at him and leaning down slightly to hand it to him when it happened.

Her button popped. Which wasn't a new occurrence, normally it would be followed by a embarrassed blush across her face and a fetching of the sewing kit. Not this time.

This time the button popped off with a rather vicious ferocity and went flying off like a stone in a sling shot, unfortunately he was in the wrong place and the wrong time and the button struck him right in the forehead. He remembered hitting the back of the couch, perhaps that was the loud thud he recalled. It hadn't felt like it hurt enough to make the sound however.

Now that he thinks about it perhaps it was the door that he heard go thud. When he finally moved his head back and his vision went straight again she was gone and he could hear gentle crying from the bathroom.

So he was faced with a problem. More then one actually.

It was his house, he could demand to be let in.

Then again she was crying, he didn't want to upset her further. Did she want to be comforted?

Also should he bring up the whole subject of her blouses? If she was unaware they were too small to begin with, then sewing the buttons on over and over again wouldn't help for long. But if she was aware and felt embarrassed that she was unable to buy new shirts then that would perhaps cause another problem all together. It was her right to dress as she wished but then again she never seemed very comfortable, which led to him believing perhaps it was her financial issue that was the cause of this mess. While her economy was improving, she still used much of her budget taking care of her home and animals not much left over for clothing, which is why she repaired her old clothing so much, a thriftiness he could appreciate but seemed to cause her much distress, especially when the buttons pop like they did.

He was vaguely aware that he kept raising his left hand and dropping it in his debate on whether or not to knock on the door. He must have been staring at the door more intently then he meant to, Peter voice startled him slightly.

"Ladonia get locked in the bathroom again?"

Peter stands next to him and looks at the door, a tiny grin on his face. His amusement was at the memory of Berwald's other ward having accidentally jammed the door lock, a feat in which he himself had no idea at the time was possible. Ladonia's achievement of the impossible was what was so amusing to Peter. Peter hadn't teased Ladonia about it afterward but Ladonia has spent the weekend avoiding Peter just in case. To which Peter had been confused about and...well fatherhood was full of stories like that.

Peter was visiting this week but had been out during Ukraine's visit. Thankfully. Ukraine would have felt worse if that had happened in front of the boy. The dirt on the boys pant knees (and shirt and face) would hint that he got to play with some of the local children.

"Hey Papa you have this weird _thing_ right here" Peter points at the center of his own forehead. He lifts his hand and touches the corresponding spot. A bruise already.

"Just a bruise Peter."

That seemed to make the crying get worse. She was stuttering as she tired to say something but then it calmed back down into the same gentle rhythm.

"Oh, Papa is Ms. Sofiya stuck in there this time?" He looked worried rather then amused now.

"Not...stuck...Peter...just..."

Peter nods. When not dealing with her siblings, a topic she tended to get emotional about, Ukraine had a perfectly even temperament. The only other subject to garner this kind of reaction was a 'wardrobe malfunction' as Alfred would call it. The two males standing outside the bathroom door understood this and not much else was needed to be explained.

Peter being braver then him knocked on the door. The sound from within quieted down to a nearly inaudible volume, only hikes in her breathing would indicate she was still crying. Peter took a step back and he took one as well, unsure of Peter's plan.

"..."

"...P-Peter..."

"If you don't mind me asking ma'am but you see I've been playing in the mud all day and now my-"

With that the bathroom door was frantically opened. It wasn't slammed open because she was always weary of slamming anything but it was speedily and yes...frantically was the word. She had a wet cloth in one hand and a look of determination in her slightly puffy eyes. She hadn't even bothered to wipe the last of the tears form her face as she began scrubbing at Peter's face.

"Ah little one...you always get so dirty..." she fussed over his face, it came naturally to her.

While the effect was probably exactly what Peter had expected the boy was still grumbling slightly at the face washing. She was too busy wiping dirt off Peters face to notice him, she was startled when the tissue gently ran across her cheeks, absorbing the last of her tears. He had to make those tears go away, he could never stand tears, on faces that should be smiling, especially Sofiya.

They had been the last of her tears until he placed a kiss on her cheek and she let out a few drips out, but the small smile of her face said it was for a whole different reason. Peter gently took the cloth from her hand and slid into the bathroom with a "thank you Ms. Sofiya" and the door clicking closed behind him. In some part of his mind he noted that Peter was very crafty, playing on Sofiya's uncontrolled mothering tendencies.

They could talk about the buttons and the blouses some other time. He had the woman behind those things to care for. Right now he had tears to kiss away and a laugh to hear from her lips. Right now the_ only_ problem was that she wasn't as happy as she should be and he needed to fix that. No matter how many hours and kisses, he would fix this.


End file.
